This morning we had planned to leave at 10am. I am slowly realising that B and M plus toddler takes double the amount of time to organise. Thus, we didn’t leave until 11.30am.
This was after a night which included Small Z vomiting so copiously that she was limp, and then going to sleep, only to wake up coughing and unable to stop until about 11pm. Thus, our plans for leaving early were killed off before they even began.
M, struck down by a cold and traumatised by fainting the day before while having blood tests, was hoarse, slightly woebegone, but strangely zen this morning. Even when we finally left, drove 15km, and then had to go home again because I left my bank card behind, he barely flinched. He maintained this through the horrible traffic snagging us through the city and out the other side.
Small Z, on a three hour car journey, did not have her normal nap, but coped admirably – buoyed by my song and dance routines as we got closer to our planned stop in Malmsbury – home of one of my favourite all time cafes.
We finally reached the Maldon Folk Festival ticket office sometime before 5pm. I was comforted to spy a lovely Humber Supersnipe just as we drove into town. Small Z was thrilled by the sight of a girl with long plaits riding a donkey through the streets, and then kept asking where all the ‘muthic and danthing’ was that we’d told her about.
It was so lovely to finally find E, D and Small E (apparently unscathed by my babysitting efforts the other day) with their tent up and a caravan friendly spot. M and I have been SO looking forward to this weekend away – it already feels like a breath of fresh air, sitting on a camp chair (thanks, Rie!) and hearing music leaking up the hill from the performance tents. At least three nights in the caravan…couldn’t be better.